


She Doesn't Remember...

by warchiefsteph



Series: Athena & The Arcana [7]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, NSFW, i don't know man there's sex involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 20:20:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12755490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warchiefsteph/pseuds/warchiefsteph
Summary: A summons in the dead of night. A curious magician. A provocative count.Anything can happen.





	She Doesn't Remember...

**Author's Note:**

> This gives a little insight into Athena's past, a past that she doesn't remember.
> 
> After several days and many headaches, this is the longest one-shot I've ever written, and I'm very proud of it! I hope you like it too!

_She doesn’t remember._

I could feel my breath catch in my chest. The darkness of the winding corridors weighs heavily on me, obscuring my vision, choking my throat.

_She doesn’t remember_.

I don’t panic, I’m here for a reason. My heart beats in a steady rhythm, its pace quickening only as my feet draw me nearer to my destination. My bare feet make no echo down the elaborate marble hallways, perfectly polished, the swirling colors of gold and white visible even by the softest light emanating from the ball of flames in my hand.

_She doesn’t remember_.

There is a summons tucked away in my belt. The paper is of fine craftsmanship, the parchment perfectly smooth when I unrolled it. The ink was a deep, royal purple, the penmanship of the finest sort I have ever seen. It is sealed with wax, a bright scarlet, the emblem pressed within an ornate letter ‘L’. The royal seal.

I don’t remember receiving it; I was in a daze during my stay in the palace. From the streets to the richest part of the city, my mind seemed to be in an inescapable stupor. My thoughts were muddled, it was difficult to concentrate, and yet I found myself adapting to the palace life easily, as though it were meant to be. I dined with the royalty, I showed them my magic. They were entranced as the flames flickered in the air before them, and I could remember a smile on my lips at their delight of the simple trick.

I am but a simple magician, and yet it is my power which brought me to the palace’s step.

The summons arrived just before midnight. I was moments from falling asleep; the comfort of a bed I had never felt before was lost as I was jostled from my slumber. My tall, lanky form was draped in the finest silks the Countess had to offer, yet when I answered the door, a servant--looking quite uncomfortable and out of place--presented me with the parchment I now held closely. They mentioned a summons, nothing more, and left without a trace the moment my fingers encircled the scroll.

I paused, having reached the end of the hallway, the path splitting into two separate corridors. The hair at the back of my neck prickled; the note said left, the double doors I would be looking for at its end. Glancing to the right, however, I could see a warmth in a glow at the end of the hall, enticing, inviting, and far more attractive than the darkness of the left. I sighed, fingers traced idly over the broken seal of my summons, considering the offer within.

I did not have anything to lose; I lived a quiet, private life in my shop, unbothered by the general public, but always willing to help those who needed it. I performed magic and crafted potions, nothing particularly special or noteworthy, but enough to have them coming back for more. Perhaps it was that which summoned me even now, but so late in the night I could not help but to wonder what the true intentions of this secret meeting were.

A long winded sigh escaped my lips, and I turned toward the left, down the darkened hall, the emptiness causing my footsteps to echo even louder in the stillness. My eyes strained to see, and the flame in my hand grew bright, casting a bluish glow on the marble walls. Portraits lined them, and while most were hidden in the shadows, I could tell that each contained the same subject, the same man painted lavishly on expansive canvases, in various poses of elegance and power. My heart began to race; it wasn’t until that moment, when the doors came into view, that I felt the weight of the situation on my shoulders, and the prospect of speaking to the Count, face-to-face and very much alone, found my hands wringing together before me. The doors were large, even from my distance, and they were pure white, embellished in intricate, golden patterns. On the center of each panel was a lavish ‘L,’ and it was then that I knew there wasn’t another option. There was no going back, now.

My hand raised tentatively, reaching for the golden knocker that rested beneath the emblem. Fingertips pressed against the gold; it was cool to the touch, and unnaturally smooth, with an air of mystery that I could not quite place. Was it magic? I was unaware as to whether the Count or Countess knew magic of any sort, but I could feel the telltale prickle of power emanating through my touch.

The doors suddenly swung inward, and I jolted back, clenching my fist and holding it to my breast. He must have known I was there, but how, I was unsure. I had been perfectly silent in my journey; my feet were bare against the cold floors, and the finery that draped from my figure barely made a sound in the quiet. Regardless, I tread forward, crimson tresses bouncing into my eyes, and I bit my lip, gaze fixing on the warmth of a fire, roaring on the opposite side of the room.

The bedroom was grand. I pushed the double doors shut behind me, the back just as ornate as the front, before taking in my surroundings with a careful eye. At the far right, nestled against the wall in the center of the room, was a grand, four-poster bed, the canopy which hung, obscuring the bed within pure white, crimson and gold accents embroidered in intricate patterns throughout the fabric. The feet of the bed ended in eagle claws, the craftsmanship so accurate, the talons appeared sharper than they truly were. At the foot of the bed as an ornate chest, double locked with heavy, iron locks, painted gold to match the aesthetic of the room. Even the marbled floors were white, inlaid with gold that seemed to move, as though molten, in the flickering light of the fire across from me.

To my left was a series of bookshelves, filled to the brim with old, leather-bound tomes, worn and weathered from ages of use. Between them, however, was what caught my eye. Drawing forward, my brows knitted together, the fire casting long shadows across the floor as my gaze swept across the portrait that caught me. The frame was thick, golden, and spectacularly carved, but it was hardly a testament to the painting it contained. The strokes of the brush were as precise as I’ve ever seen, and the colors popped vividly against the canvas, even in the minimal light, even as my shadow casted the lower part in darkness.

It was the Count, standing proudly, his boot resting atop a skull, his boastful stance a testament to his glory. My gaze fixed on his face, unable to tear it away, and my hand tentatively reached out to touch the masterpiece, for reasons I could not explain. It was as though the portrait called to me, tempting me closer to enrapture me further into its depths. Try as I might, I couldn’t pull away, and the closer I came, the faster my heart raced and stomach knotted, my eyes fixed on his piercing gaze.

“Nice, isn’t it?”

I jumped, my hand drawing away quickly, clutched tightly to my chest. I hadn’t expected the voice, and I glanced over my shoulder, gazing at a plush, high-backed chair facing the fireplace. From where I stood, I could see a leg crossed over another, and a glinting, golden hand shining on the armrest, fingers tapping idly against the fabric.

I had not yet answered, and the Count continued. “It’s my favorite piece I’ve commissioned, ” he drawled, and his silhouette shifted, straightening in his seat. “ Nadi doesn’t like it. She believes it a waste of time and money, but I think otherwise. Don’t you agree?”

I watched as he rose slowly, _lazily_ to his feet, stretching his back, golden hand digging its claws into his opposite shoulder. Turning on his heel, he swaggered toward me, and running fingers through blonde tresses, his lips curved into a smug grin at my confused expression. I glanced from the Count to the portrait, my arms folding across my chest, fingers drumming softly against my arm.

“It’s, _ah_ , lovely. ” I was unsure how to respond to him. I had yet to speak to the Count one-on-one, and truth be told, I was rather intimidated to be in his _chambers_ , quite alone, with only Lucio himself as company in the dead of night.

I could feel his gaze fixed on me, a crease appearing between my brows as I frowned. Was this the point of my summons? Idle chatter about a painting? I will admit that I admired its craftsmanship, and the attention to detail was something I’d never seen. But was this all?

He cleared his throat as though to say _I’m waiting_ , and when I glanced at him again, his brow raised rather impatiently, though the smirk that rested upon his lips did not falter. My expression, however, shifted into one of mild annoyance; I had never been a person who had patience with _his_ sort of personality, and the thought of bending to his whim wasn’t at all attractive. Before now, before dinner, the Count and I had never spoken; I had seen him, of course, when he traversed about the city, speaking with us _common folk_ , but aside from the confines of his comfy carriage, I could count the words passed between us on one hand.

I let my arms fall to my side, one hand pressed against the small of my back, as though nursing sore muscles. Turning away from both Lucio and the portrait, I drew nearer to the fire, allowing the warmth of the orange glow to wash over my weary limbs. To the right, the bed invited me, the plush mattress calling my name, the pillows beckoning me to lay my head upon them. Behind me, Lucio hissed, displeased, and a wry grin curved my lips, before masking it with my hand, feigning a contemplative expression.

“It’s a fine piece, I _suppose_ , ” I murmured, gazing into the depths of the flames. “ You spared no expense, that much is obvious, and I’d be hard pressed to think of a painting of finer craftsmanship that I’ve seen. ” _There_ , enough to stroke his ego, but not necessarily to admit that I was rather fond of the painting. Still, soft footsteps drew nearer, and I turned my gaze, ever-so-slightly, over my shoulder, skepticism marring my features. Part of me found amusement that he was several inches shorter than me, and part of me was still curious as to why I was brought here in the dead of night. Chewing my lip, my arms folded across my breast again, fingers tapping against my skin.

“But that’s not why I’m here, is it, Count?”

_She doesn’t remember._

“Not at all, dear Athena, ” he said, voice as smooth as silk, and yet the sting behind it was unmasked, like poisoned honey. He came to a rest beside me, piercing eyes fixed upon my face before flitting to the fire, joining my gaze within its depths. “ Your magic intrigues me,” he continued, softly, and I could feel his hand brush against the crimson strands of my hair, fingers running along the exposed skin. I stiffened, a smug laugh falling from the Count’s lips, and yet I tossed my hair aside nonchalantly, as though his touch had not lingered upon my arm.

“My magic intrigues many, ” I quipped, easing myself away slowly. Whatever game he played, I was not about to fall prey to it. However, when I shifted my gaze back to his pale eyes, I could see amusement dancing within them, enhanced by the light of the flickering flames. “ Not everyone can possess the power I have trained my entire life.”

He raised a brow, unimpressed. “Perhaps you give yourself too little credit, dear Athena.” It did not sound like a compliment--whether he intended for it to or not, it did not matter. The inflection of his voice had me drawn to him like a moth to light, and the smirk that rested on his lips begged me to affirm his thoughts.

Naturally, I refused.

“Perhaps you give me too _much_ credit, dear _Count_ . ” The annoyance on his countenance pulled a victorious smirk across my lips, and I returned my gaze to the fire, enjoying his torment. From what little I knew of Lucio, I knew that he was not pleased when things did not go _his_ way, and given my current position, I was happy to keep riding my victories. Beside me, he huffed in a sort of pout, however, a moment later he raised his hand to his hair, smoothing blond tresses back, and his lips curved into an alluring smirk, shifting his weight that he might fully face me.

“That remains to be seen, I suppose, ” he said, rolling pale eyes. “ Perhaps you might show me _more_ of that power you possess? I am very keen to know more of it, and not only were you successful in charming the nobility and my dear Nadi, but you have caught _my_ attention, as well.”

I pursed my lips, watching him closely. I was not blind to Lucio’s playboy lifestyle; as far as I was aware, he and the Countess were far from the happy couple they acted on behalf of Vesuvia. Even now, as he loosened his collar, the white, chiffon fabric of his thin shirt falling aside to expose the chiseled surface of chest, I was aware. Perhaps the magic is what first garnered an interest in me, but as he gazed upon me now, the hungry glint in his eyes never leaving my face, I knew.

“You speak as though that is all I’ve ever dreamed of,” I murmured, holding my chin high, my bare feet padding across the rug as I passed him by. My eyes locked upon his, molten pools of gold in the firelight, calculating and cautious, a far stride from his provocative, icy gaze. I lifted my hand, allowing my fingers to graze the area of his shoulder, not fitted with the golden prostheses, and though he appeared displeased that I touched him, I could see the glimmer of approval flicker across poised features.

“Should it not be? ” he asked, his voice a husky growl. “ What a woman with a commoner’s livelihood would give to be in your situation, Athena. What _anyone_ would give. Even a few minutes as my guest is enough to set their _passions_ ablaze.”

I snorted, rather unattractively, yet I managed to stifle most of it behind the back of my hand. “I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure, my dear Count.”

Behind him now, I watched as his silhouette stiffened, and a note of derision fell from his lips as he cast a cold glance toward me. I smiled coyly, _innocently_ , and his eyes narrowed further, whether skeptical, or unsure of my actions, I did not know. Regardless, he pushed the sleeve of his right arm up to the elbow, his long fingers stretching.

“Lucio, _please_ .”

I inclined my head slightly. “Lucio, then.”

A grin flashed across his features, and he made to turn toward me, his eyes intent on the prize, but I reached him first. My hands fixed on his shoulders, holding him in place; through his shirt, I could feel the warmth of his skin, and the strain of his muscles as they itched to take control, but I was having none of it.

My nails dug into his flesh, and a hiss fell from his lips. “Athena, _please_ , is this what you truly wish? ” I watched as he raised his hands to mine, still on his shoulders, and the closer his fingers drew to mine, the more tightly I clenched into his skin. He was _clever_ , he knew exactly what it was that I was getting to, and his hands stopped short, a huff passing from his lips. I couldn’t see his face, but I could almost _feel_ his eyes roll as his posture slackened, hands falling to his hips.

“Lucio, _please_ , ” I replied, mockingly, draping my arms over his shoulders, hands finding his chest.  My fingers traced circles against his skin, nails raising red lines against his pale chest.“ I was hoping we would continue speaking of this magic you’re _so_ interested in, hm?”

Inhaling sharply through his teeth, Lucio bowed his head. “ _Truly_ , you could not think of something more--”

His breath hitched in his throat, my knee parting his legs. I slipped mine between them, the silken fabric of my gown falling away to reveal the the smooth, tanned skin of my thigh. Lucio’s hands clenched, stiff at his side as I began to run my thigh against his groin, and pressing my chest flush against his back, my head rested on his shoulder, nose trailing gently behind his ear.

“Magic is a funny thing, ” I said softly, eyes half lidded as my breath tickled his neck. His jaw clenched and his shoulders squared, but I purposefully ignored it, continuing on nonchalantly, as though no more interested in the conversation than the weather. “ It is fickle, unruly, but when it answers you, it is a powerful ally.”

Nose running along the shell of his ear, I pulled my hands from his shirt, raising them slowly before him, palms up. Within their center, a faint, glowing blue light coalesced, as though pulling energy from the air itself, materializing into a sphere above my hands. I could not make out his features, but his steady breathing was concentrated, his focus fixed straightforward, pale skin illuminated in a ghastly, bluish glow.

His arm raised, as though to touch it, reach for it fervently. I knew how enraptured he was with magic, how he thirsted for the knowledge my art provided. Why else would he have summoned myself to the palace? To his _chambers_? A grin lifted my features at his distraction, and as his fingers drew, inches away from the sphere of glowing magic, my teeth grazed the lobe of his ear, sucking lightly upon it.

I couldn’t let his attentions waver for too long; what fun would there be in that? He hissed once again, and I pressed my thigh further against his groin, running it back and forth in a painfully slow motion, the purr which fell from his lips far more satisfying than anything else I had experienced. It was low, musical, and I could feel his clawed hand move toward my hip, feeling pinpricks against my skin as he made contact. His hunger was growing, but I was not about to appease the ravenous beast.

Pressing my chest against his back once more, I withdrew all contact from the Count, turning on my heel and stepping lightly toward his portrait again. His growl of frustration brought a smile to my lips, one easily hidden as I raised my hand to my mouth, as though in contemplation of the painting once again. My eyes swept over Lucio’s countenance, his squared shoulders, straight back, and the way he stood over the skull upon the ground. The arrogant grin upon his lips.

I turned again, this time gliding toward Lucio, himself, eyes alight as though he had not just been at my mercy moments before. His features scrunched as I danced around him, and though I could feel his eyes travel across my body hungrily, hands itching to reach out and have his way with me, I pointedly ignored any advances he might have made. This was _my_ game, now. I knew his reputation. I knew how he could get anyone to bend to his will, and yet here I was, causing him a great frustration that could not be satisfied unless I relented, knowing well that I would not.

“I suppose I haven’t been truthful about the portrait,” I said, rather brightly, coming to a rest behind him again. One hand pressed against his back, between his shoulders, the other tugging playfully on his hair at the nape of his neck as I guided him forward to stand before the painting once again.

“Is that so? ” It was the first he had spoken since I began my game, and his voice was thick with desire, frustration. “ Do enlighten me, dear Athena. What thoughts _does_ the magician have of my prized possession?”

My hands gripped his shoulders, lips hovering inches from his ear. “ _Plenty_ .”

Unprovoked, my mouth found his throat, teeth grazing sharply against his skin. The groan which fell from his lips was satisfying, and my hands wrapped around his waist, fingers tugging at the knot which kept his sash tied around him. Perhaps I was clumsy in my actions, but Lucio’s hands found mine, both unusually cold, making quick work of what I attempted to accomplish. The sash--bright crimson in color--fell from his waist, however, rather than letting it fall to the ground, I clenched it in my fists, wrapping it suddenly around his wrists.

Lucio froze in surprise, and I twisted around him, tying his wrists together tightly, a mischievous glint in my eyes. It took a moment for him to realize my plans, and I tugged upon the sash, taking advantage of his astonishment, and he wobbled forward, falling to his knees before me. Landing with a grunt, his head was bowed, obscuring his gaze from mine as his hair--usually so perfectly positioned and sleek--fell in front of his eyes. His posture was stiff, still proud in his vulnerability, and he lifted his gaze to mine, a single, blonde lock of hair falling across his nose.

“Your actions tell me plenty, ” he said huskily, raising a single brow. “ And still, I have yet to hear a single word fall from your crimson lips.” His eyes swept across my face lazily, almost in disinterest, and yet the smolder in his eyes told me otherwise. Provocative indeed; the rumors that flew from the palace were far from false--though I had never thought to be a part of it.

“You’re _proud_ , Lucio,” I purred, shifting my balance to one leg as I lifted my other foot, resting it upon his shoulder. He glanced to the side, pursing his lips, allowing his pale gaze to travel up my leg and across my thigh, before his alluring expression found mine again.

“Vain, ” I continued, leaning him back as I pressed my foot against him. “ You think so highly of yourself, you would have me in your chambers to lay for you like a mewling maid, eager to submit.”

He chuckled softly, darkly, shrugging as though confirming her words. It was no secret; the shambles of he and Nadia’s failed marriage had slithered its way through the city’s cracks, laying itself in the very foundations upon which their kingdom was built. And yet the city found no fault in him, no fault in her. No fault in either for a union doomed to failure since the beginning.

With a tug, I pulled him forward again, and while I continued to hold my foot upon his shoulder, he was forced closer, resting his head against my thigh. My eyes were blazing, the heat which permeated my body causing a vibrant flush to settle upon my skin. He watched me closely, noting the redness of my features, and the corner of his mouth lifted into an smug, crooked grin. Eyes half lidded, he tilted his face toward my thigh, the tip of his nose tracing lines against the sensitive skin. The aromas of lavender and jasmine still lingered from my bath earlier, and I watched as he closed his eyes, taking in the scent with a pleased purr.

I was not having it.

Bending slightly, my hand shot out, catching his chin between my thumb and forefinger, forcing his gaze back to mine. His grin had not faltered, and the arrogance of his expression had my lip lifting in a snarl. Perhaps this was his ploy to writhe his way under my skin, or perhaps he toyed with me as I toyed with him. Regardless, I pulled him closer, eyes flashing dangerously, the grin which lifted my features perfectly fearsome.

“Whatever your intentions are with me, Lucio, know that I will have you bending to _my_ whim before the evening ends. ” His brows rose, eyes flickering in agreement to my challenge. “ Tonight, you do as _I_ say. _I_ am your Queen.”

I unhanded him, straightening up again, my expression as haughty as that which his portrait wore. It towered behind me, and I stood imposing before it, the fire’s light casting a warm glow on my countenance. Lucio turned his head toward my thigh again, and his soft lips trailed against my skin in delicate kisses, watching me lazily out of the corner of his eyes.

“As you _wish_ .”

Hands still tied together, the sash firmly in my hand, Lucio made quick work, his mouth slowly trailing up my thigh. The tenderness with which he moved surprised me; his sharp tongue and arrogant nature had many believe that such grace could not come from his lips, and yet each brush of them against my skin sent another shiver down my spine. My jaw clenched as he eased closer, rising up on his knees to better angle himself between my legs. Drawing away, he closed his eyes lazily, leaning his brow against the thickest part of my thigh, and I waited with bated breath, allowing my foot to slide further down his back, balancing myself.

There was a moment of pause. I was suddenly very aware of how my heart raced, how my position over the Count caused the churning within my stomach to elevate dramatically. It was foolish for me to continue, but the greater part of me, the part that got off on seeing a man of his power kneeling on the ground before me, spurned me onward. Truthfully, I was moments away from pulling him off the ground, pushing him onto the expansive bed that took up much of the room, and have my way with him as I pleased.

However, it was _my_ turn to be caught off guard.

Teeth sunk into my thigh, marking it roughly as Lucio took his chance, claiming me as _his_. A growl fell from my lips as he suckled the skin, unrelenting, and a shiver ran down my back at the painful sensation. Seconds passed before he finally pulled away, the dark oval left behind glistening, a testament of his presence, and the Count laughed lightly under his breath, pleased he could catch me as he did.

Still recovering from his wiles, Lucio took the opportunity to raise his hands--my grip on the sash having slackened--and pushed aside the skirts that hid my body from view. He continued his trail of kisses along my inner thigh, pausing where my leg met my groin, nuzzling the tip of his nose against the sensitive area. I could feel his hot breath thru my undergarments, and he placed a kiss upon my lips, his tongue flicking out to tease me, even through the cloth that obscured my core.

That was _enough_. He was getting to me, and he knew it. The flick of his tongue sent a jolt through my center, and my grip on the sash tightened again, pulling him up off the ground and to his feet. The grin plastered across his lips was enough to provoke even the slightest altercation; the pure arrogance, the knowledge that he could still get what he wanted out of me shone brightly on his face, and I was not about to let the Count get off on the sheer thought. My hand twisted into the sash, forcing his hands more tightly together, and my other gripped his shoulder, pushing him backwards toward the bed that called, so enticingly, for us. He willingly obliged--though I was certain it was a part of his plan--and pushing back the curtains that separated the plush mattress from the room, I forced him down onto the bed, pushing him back while holding his arms above his head, unable to reach me.

“You’re being far too bold, Lucio,” I tutted, raising a brow. He merely smiled, eyes flashing dangerously.

“A bold woman requires a bold touch, might I say, my dear, ” he replied cooly, stretching on the bed, best as he could. “ I must admit, I find myself most entranced with your boldness; it is not often that I find a partner who enjoys taking matters in their own hands. They’re... _intimidated..._ I think, though I can’t blame them. _Look_ at me.”

His eyes darted to the painting behind me again, and I glanced backward briefly, suppressing a roll of my eyes. “Naturally,” I murmured, lifting my skirts, pulling myself upon the bed above him. Though he spread his legs, feet dangling off the edge, I drew myself further, legs straddled across his groin. I could feel his arousal, hard against my core, and though his features remained a perfect mask of arrogance, the flash of desire across his eyes did not go unnoticed as my hips moved in slow circles atop him.

“Why do you torture me so?” he whined haughtily, but I pressed myself flush against his chest, finger dragging along his lower lip. My hips did not relent, and with each grind against him, his hips bucked up lightly, pulling forth from his lips ragged groans, his pale features flushed.

“I suppose I like seeing you squirm beneath me,” I replied, allowing myself to press a kiss to his sharp jaw. His lips had yet to brush against mine, but that was a hunger I would drag out as long as I possibly could. Now, I worked at the ties that kept the bodice of my gown from undoing, leaning up slightly. However, Lucio bucked again, the ties falling from my hand within proximity for him to catch in his teeth. With a tug, he undid the knot almost instantly, and I could feel myself become free of the confines of my clothing while my fingers loosened the rest. Careful not to relent my grip on the sash, I shouldered myself out of the top, easing my arms from the long sleeves. The silken fabrics fell to my hips after a moment, and I managed to slip completely from the garment without so much a complaint, left only with panties of the thinnest fabrics, dark red and lined with ebony lace.

Lucio’s eyes flickered in approval, drinking in my body, and I worked at his clothing slowly, tearing his shirt from his chest. His skin was cool to the touch as I dragged my fingers along his chiseled torso, unashamedly admiring his physique, and after a moment of gandering, I pressed myself against him again, lips curved into a playful smile.

“What to do with you, I wonder? ” I murmured, the tip of my nose running along his jaw. “ So many possibilities, not enough time...”

My lips found the underside of his jaw, planting sweet kisses on his chin, and my hips moved against his once more, pulling forth another groan from the Count’s lips. I loosened the grip on his bonds; as my tongue trailed along his jaw, his pale eyes fluttering shut, freedom was the last thing on his mind. Sliding from my perch on his chest, I wrapped my leg around his right, continuing to press kisses against his neck and collar all the while my hand trailed across his chest and down his stomach, fingers easing into the top of his pants. His breath hitched, and I gave pause, glancing uncertainly at Lucio. However only a moment passed before he lifted his chin, inviting me to partake of his flesh, and my hand continued through to his groin, feeling his arousal instantly.

Taking it in my hand, fingers curled around his shaft, stroking it in slow, fluid movements. The effect was instant; his hips bucked into my hand, a deep groan falling from his lips, and glancing at his hands, they clenched into fists at the subtle touch. Pleased, I continued, watching as the Count was helpless to my mercy, back arching as my pace sped.

“You do realize, ” he murmured huskily, between groans. “ That there _is_ more time than just tonight.”

It was a statement, more than anything, and I said nothing, only pausing to rise from my position beside him, hovering over his body, if only to rid him of his pants. There was little I needed to do to get him to oblige; a few choice movements and they too joined a pile of discarded garments at the foot of the bed. Satisfied, I peppered his chest and stomach with soft, sweet kisses, adding a bite here and there to pull a purr from his lips.

“Hm… ” I mused softly, nibbling my lip. “ What _I’m_ hearing is ‘I like you, please come back.’”

Lucio snorted, as though that was not the case. Glancing at him, my features hardened, brows raised, and I withdrew my hand, forcing his eyes to fly open. His gaze fixed on mine, and though I had every intention of helping him finish, making him work for it sounded a sight better than letting him _lay_ there while I did everything myself.

“You find my thoughts humorous, I see, ” I said stiffly, fighting back a grin. Kneeling at the edge of the bed, one arm folded over my chest, my other hand running along my chin nonchalantly. Lucio’s lip curled as I met his eyes, displeasure fixing upon flushed features. “ If that’s the case…”

I slipped from the bed and gathered my gown from the ground, turning my back on him. It was a slow, deliberate movement, and I took my time, allowing him to watch the performance I teased. Still, I refused to meet his gaze. My attention turned to the painting, once again, and I could hear Lucio shifting on the bed, whether to fix himself or free himself, I was unsure. However, my sights were attentive on the portrait, perfectly ready to pull a reaction from the Count with a few, choice words.

“It’s a shame, ” I sighed, feigning sadness. My arms clutched my gown to my chest, fingers fiddling with the straps idly. “ I’ll miss seeing this painting; I quite like it.”

Feet hit the floor behind me, and as I turned, I was stunned to see Lucio cross the room in three, long strides, his hands free of their confines. One of his hands captured mine, forcing my garments to the ground, and he pulled me closer with a flourish as the other found the small of my back, holding me in place. My heart raced, both in surprise and excitement, and suddenly, I felt myself pushed back against the canvas of Lucio’s portrait, a grin curving his lips.

“Athena, _please_ , ” he drawled, his nose running along my jaw, leg pinning mine against the wall. “ As if I would let such a fine creature escape me so easily…”

I had no time to react. His lips pressed against mine in a hungry fashion, his hand entangling itself into my crimson waves. Hips pressed against mine, and our bodies became flush with one another, his arousal evident as he moved against me, moaning softly into my mouth. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, inviting him further into my embrace, and my hands found his back, sharp nails dragging their way down his flesh, pale skin marked with long, crimson scratches.

Lips danced hungrily against mine, with a certain grace that only Lucio could master. His frigid, golden hand found the back of my neck, holding me in place; clawed fingers dug into my skin, the sensation forcing a mewl from my lips, and still, he held my body to his, unrelenting and starved. The tables slowly turned on me as he gained the upper hand, the sheer willpower of the Count’s desires forcing me into submission. It was exhilarating; little else flitted across my mind when he broke for air, hungry lips trailing rough kisses across my cheek and down my jaw. He paused, if only to move his hand to my hip, and he nipped my earlobe, teeth grazing across it. As he was distracted, my hand trailed up his back, fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck. It was soft, silky, and afforded the best care in all of Vesuvia. Even as his lips found my neck, marking me painfully as he had my thigh, my hand balled into a fist at the back of his hair, tugging his head back sharply lifting his chin so that his throat was exposed to my wiles.

“I don’t think I said you could touch me, Lucio,” I tutted, and I could feel the challenge in his posture, his hands gripping my skin as though to dare me to push him away. Still, I pulled, and his eyes fluttered shut, the hand at my neck running down my back, over my waist, and resting on my hip. The clawed gauntlet of the prostheses slipped under my panties, and the sharp edges of the fingers tore through the fabric with ease.

I huffed, slight displeasure crossing my features at the ruined undergarment, but I paid it no mind as I took my place as queen, ridding myself of the fabric. Pushing him back and away from the wall, my eyes glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of a plush rug not far behind, and he moved willingly under my hand. The cool marble under my feet was quickly replaced by the softest fur imaginable, and my eyes flickered to Lucio’s pale hues, a conceited grin crossing my features.

Tilting his head to the side inquisitively, Lucio’s expression was impassive, save for the inferno raging within his eyes. They fixed on my eyes for a moment, sweeping over my face and down my nose, hovering at my lips longer than the rest. A huff escaped him, a slight curve to his lips displacing the false disinterest he presented to me. It was a moment before his eyes traveled lazily back to mine, and the sharply clawed fingers of his prostheses reached to drag the points against the underside of my jaw. My hand loosened its grip on his hair, and I trailed soft touches along his cheek, before pinching his chin once again between my fingers, lifting it so that his eyes could fix nowhere than my own.

“What would you have me do, then? ” he asked huskily, eyes half-lidded. “ It is not often that I find myself _ordered_ , Athena. Perhaps you’re one of the lucky ones; I do not let my prey take command so willingly.”

I laughed harshly, tilting his head to the side and indulging myself as I pressed my lips to his neck. My teeth grazed his skin gently, teasing what I _could_ do, however leaving the rest to his imagination. “ Lucio, _please._ I am no prey.”

Drawing away, I stepped a pace backward, hands falling from his form and hovering at my sides, as though inviting him to partake. His skepticism lasted for a mere moment; flipping my hair over my shoulder, I offered the crook of my neck as appeasement, the fire’s light casting shadows in the valleys of my form, yet my eyes glowed brightly as they bore down upon him.

Mere seconds passed and Lucio pressed his form against mine, lips caressing the plains of my neck, cool skin flush against me. Teeth bit my flesh roughly, and as one hand pressed against the small of my back, that which was made of gold grabbed my derriere, squeezing tightly. He was not at all gentle; teasing as I did had caused a beast within him to grow, and even as his hips moved against mine, grinding his length between my thighs, the sharp points of his hand broke flesh, small droplets of blood, perfectly spaced apart, coalesced on my skin.

The pain, though small, was exhilarating, and my head lolled back, inviting him in for more. Kisses and bites peppered my neck and shoulder, and his teeth dragged across my collar sharply, hot breath furthering the flush of my skin. My eyes fluttered shut as he began to sink to his knees, his lips marking a trail down my chest, pausing at my breasts. He circled around them, tongue leaving cool lines against my skin, and he took my nipple into his mouth, flicking the tip, all the while his hands dragged across my flesh, clawed hand leaving raised marks as they scratched me. His other hand traveled slowly between my legs, massaging my thigh before teasing my core, running his fingers over my lips to test me. I could concentrate on little as his mouth moved down my stomach now, a kiss here, a bite there, a dark oval on my pelvis. My hands reached for him, fingers delving into his soft hair, and a chuckle escaped him as he parted my lips, slipping a finger between as he began to rub.

My eyes flew open, a jolt of surprise flitting down my back, a soft gasp falling from my mouth. Fingers clenched in his hair at the sensation, and glancing down at Lucio, on his knees and between my legs, the satisfaction which permeated his features enveloped me in a full blush. Continuing with his ministrations, his lopsided grin hoped for more, yet I clenched my jaw shut, unwilling to give him so much satisfaction so soon. Presented with a challenge, he merely raised a brow, before leaning forward, drawing his hand away, only to press his lips against mine.

I closed my eyes, concentrating on my own silence, and yet, it further provoked him to pull what he could from my lips. His tongue danced along my clit, and I could feel myself slowly losing my thoughts, my breath hitching in my throat with each lap within me. The coolness of the room was lost; heat permeated my body as my own arousal grew, and my mind was in a daze. Colors swirled behind my eyelids, filling my thoughts with ethereal figures, intertwined together in throes of passion.

Lucio and I.

Inhibitions be damned, I pulled myself away from him the moment he leaned back, dropping to the ground before him. His brows raised in mild surprise, but I spared him no thought. My hands found his shoulders, pushing him backward against the ground, and he landed with a soft grunt on the plush rug, watching carefully as I pulled myself toward him. I straddled his groin, supporting myself over him with one hand, the other wrapping around his shaft, holding it steady as I balanced over it. It hovered at my entrance, and I gently ran my hand along his length, provoking a purr to fall from Lucio’s lips.

My heart raced, body hot in anticipation as my eyes locked onto his. He positioned himself upright, leaning on an elbow, his other hand twirling his fingers through my hair, and slowly, I lowered myself onto his shaft, a deep moan of satisfaction falling from my lips. My eyes fluttered shut, pulling my hand away, and Lucio drew my face towards his, capturing my lips in a rough, hungry kiss. A kiss which I happily returned, not a thought as to what lay beyond this room, beyond _us_. Whatever fate would befall us because of our actions, I did not care. Consequences be damned, this was what I wanted, and as our pleasured moans, the musical mewls which fell from our lips, melted together in the throes of passion, I could not have cared less as to who heard…

_She doesn’t remember..._

\------------------------------

I awakened with a jolt, a yell pulled from my lips in the dead of night.

My hair was a disheveled mess, my blankets having fallen to my waist. Had that been a dream? No, no it couldn’t have. It was too real, _felt_ too real. There was no mistaking that whatever my mind had allowed me to see was as real as the bed I currently laid upon.

“No, no, _no!_ ”

I struggled to regain the memory which had shown so brightly in my mind. The feelings were still there, for now, and the warmth in the pit of my stomach pulled forth a burning blush across my entire body. _Fuck_ , it was fading quickly, far faster than a memory had faded before, and beside me in our shared bed, Asra stirred, exhausted eyes fluttering open.

“Athena?” His voice was thick with sleep, and I pulled my legs to my chest, arms wrapping around my knees as I struggled to remember. It was my past, I knew it, but the longer I focused upon it, the sooner it slipped like smoke between my fingers. I had hardly noticed the tears welling up in the corners of my eyes, spilling down flushed cheeks, and as Asra realized how shaken I appeared, he sat up in an instant, arms wrapped around my shoulders to comfort me.

“Athena, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, searching for my eyes behind my tears. The memory was gone, and I cried out in frustration, upset that a part of my past had been lost to me again. I couldn’t bring myself to speak; instead I leaned my head against my mentor’s shoulder, attempting to stifle my sobs behind my hand.

“I...I don’t know, ” I croaked, and I felt Asra shift, his hand reaching to wipe my tears from my cheeks. “ I saw something, but I can’t remember what it was. It was me, my past. But it’s gone now. It’s gone…”

I couldn’t let him see my face, no matter how he searched for it. I could still feel the blush upon my whole body, and the more aware I was of how I felt, the more I realized how my heart raced, how my stomach churned like a young girl with her first crush. It was uncomfortable, unwanted, and try as I might, I simply couldn’t shake the feeling. Trembling in Asra’s arms, my hand found his shirt, gripping tightly onto the thin fabric.

“ _Athena_ …”

Asra’s voice was soft, concerned yet warm, and I dared a glance at him, his eyes fixed on mine as he brushed a lock of crimson hair out of my face.

“Do you want me to make you some tea? You’re shaking pretty badly…”

I shook my head quickly, tucking my head under his chin. “N-no. I don’t know what I saw but...don’t leave, please. D-don’t...leave…”

I couldn’t bring myself to speak anymore, and Asra’s arms tightened around me, his hand running along my back comfortingly. I was thankful he wasn’t off on a journey tonight, and Faust, from the end of the bed, slithered up toward me as well, curling up happily on my lap.

“I won’t leave you, Athena. You’re safe.”

_She doesn’t remember._


End file.
